


Straight into the late night

by keita52



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Competence Kink, F/F, Flirting, Multi, Undercover Missions, mentioned Rinch, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keita52/pseuds/keita52
Summary: The numbers aren't the only times they help each other out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [st_aurafina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_aurafina/gifts).



> Title from "On the Verge" by Le Tigre

“Carter here.”

“Detective, are you available?” 

Carter sighed and turned away, resisting the urge to curse Finch out. “If I say no, will you listen?”

“Something has come up,” Finch continued, which was enough of an answer. “A … friend of ours has called in a favor, and neither Mr. Reese nor myself are able to fulfill the favor. We were hoping that you might be able to help.”

“Can’t you ask Fusco?”

“Our friend specifically requested you.” 

“This is starting to sound less like you’re unavailable and more like you’re setting me up for something.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Carter tilted her head back, turned the phone away for a moment and let out a long sigh. “All right. What do you need?”

“Black tie reception. Tonight at the Plaza. 8 o’clock sharp.”

“Who’s the target?”

“You’ll be briefed when you arrive.”

“Who’s my contact?” 

“You’ll know when you get there. Thank you, Detective.”

The phone clicked off, and Carter rolled her eyes.

“Everything okay?” Fusco lowered his glasses, peering across her desk at her.

“Fine,” Carter lied, standing up. “Listen, can you cover the interview? I have a … a thing.”

“Was that Glasses on the phone?"

“Yeah.”

“What’s the job?”

“Black tie reception. Details to follow.”

Fusco chuckled. “Better you than me.”

“Thanks, partner.” Standing, Carter grabbed her purse. As she walked out the door, she was already calling her salon to see if they had any last minute appointments.

* * *

At precisely 8 pm that evening, Carter stood in the lobby of the Plaza in the best dress that she’d been able to find on short notice -- a dark blue that could easily be mistaken for black in the right light. High-necked and sleeveless, it clung to her body, moving as she did. It seemed like something she could have gotten off the rack, but her friend swore it had been the talk of last year’s Bryant Park show. The heels were the shortest that she could get away with, fashionable enough to go with the dress but sturdy enough to run in.

“Detective,” a familiar voice said. Carter turned to see Zoe Morgan coming to stand besides her. She wore a beige gown, similarly form fitting and sleeveless, but ending above her knees. “Ah, good. We don’t clash.”

“Ms. Morgan--”

“Please. You’re my date for the evening, so call me Zoe.”

Carter blinked. “Date?”

Zoe smiled, linking her arm with Carter’s and beginning to steer her deeper into the hotel. “We have a bit of a mystery to solve tonight. I’ve been retained by a prominent businessman to deal with … a personal indiscretion.”

“Blackmail.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Zoe demurred, and Carter -- as she had been doing more frequently lately -- sat on her cop instincts. She nodded, inviting Zoe to continue.

“My client is supposed to meet with a … certain person, and complete a transaction. He is prepared to fulfill his end of the bargain if necessary.”

“He wants you to find out who the blackmailer is and steal the material so he doesn’t have to pay.”

“Again, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Uh huh. So, it’s _one_ of these people at the reception. Any idea who?”

“I’ve narrowed it down to three candidates.”

“Are we looking for a folder, or a briefcase, or a flash drive…”

Zoe shook her head. “My client doesn’t know.”

“Who _is_ your client, anyway?”

“Gregory Coleman.”

“Founder and CEO of Coleman Industries.” Carter tilted her head to the side. “You know, I’m not sure I really understand what Coleman Industries _does_.”

Zoe laughed. “You’re not the first person I’ve heard say that. Perhaps you’ll learn something new tonight.” 

“I live in hope,” Carter quipped as they entered the ballroom. “So, what’s the play?”

“We mingle. I’ll tap your arm twice if it’s one of our three candidates. You tell me how they read. If their body language tells you that they are nervous about a certain part of their body.”

“A folder under a jacket or a flash drive in their pocket.”

“See, I knew you were the woman for the job.” Zoe steered them over to a knot of people, injecting herself into their conversation with a practiced ease. If anyone was surprised by the nature of Zoe’s date, they did a good job of hiding it.

The first double tap came when they spoke to a city councilman, the second for a rich heiress who did a good job of pretending that she didn’t have a thought in her pretty little head, and the third from a hedge fund manager who had made some negative comments about Coleman in the press recently. Carter watched them all closely, making sure to interject a few comments so that she didn’t appear overly suspicious.

After the conversation with the hedge fund manager, Zoe and Carter made their way over to the hallway leading to the restrooms, but kept going past the ladies’ room, around a corner until they stood near the fire exit.

“Impressions?”

Carter went through them in order. “Councilman Harris was certainly very nervous about something. Could be the blackmail meet, could be the open investigation into bribes he may or may not have made. Casey Jorgensen was very calm, and I’m sure you noticed --”

“The empty-headed rich girl thing is an act?” Zoe made a small sound of contempt and shook her head. “I don’t see how her last three boyfriends have overlooked it. Must be her looks.”

“Must be,” Carter agreed. “And Stephen Green … he’s the obvious one, but it seems to me a little too obvious. A man like Green, who managed to stay afloat when dozens of his rivals lost nearly everything, wouldn’t publicly disparage a man he’s blackmailing.”

“Your vote?”

“Harris or Jorgensen.”

“Think Harris recognized you?”

Carter shrugged. “Yes, but he might not know from where.”

Zoe pursed her lips together. “You take Jorgensen, I’ll take Harris. See if we can narrow things down a bit more.”

“My gut says Jorgensen,” Carter admitted.

“Mine too, but let’s be a little more sure of this before we try getting the material Coleman wants.”

They exchanged a nod, then walked back into the ballroom together. Casey Jorgensen was standing by the drinks table, the very picture of a Nordic goddess -- tall, blonde, and statuesque. Carter smiled as she approached, and Jorgensen smiled back. “No Zoe this time?” She giggled. “How silly, I know she prefers Ms. Morgan.”

“I won’t tell,” Carter said, leaning in and giving Jorgensen a wink. The giggle that escaped Jorgensen’s lips was artfully done, Carter had to admit.

“Was there something you wanted to discuss?”

“Not really.” Carter did her best to feign hopeful nonchalance. “I just wanted to talk to you … alone.”

Jorgensen’s smile broadened. “Oh, isn’t that just the _best!”_ She touched Carter’s arm in an apparent expression of eagerness. “I was just thinking that I wanted to get to know you better. I haven’t seen you much here and, you know, the same old people gets so _boring_ after a while.”

Carter smiled. “You must do this sort of thing often, then." 

“Well, you know, I really shouldn’t complain, seeing as how it’s almost always for a good cause,” Jorgensen replied. “Daddy says it’s important to help the less fortunate, since we have more money than we know what to do with.”

Carter’s smile became a bit more forced. She was almost certain that bit was to further Jorgensen’s “bored rich girl” persona, but she absolutely loathed people who saw helping “the less fortunate” as a burden and a pain. Tonight’s reception was part of an initiative to expand the children’s cancer center at New York-Presbyterian. “It’s very generous of you to help out,” she said instead.

Jorgensen beamed at her. “So kind of you to say. But enough about me, what about you?” The hand that was still resting on Carter’s arm started moving. “Are you and Zoe -- Ms. Morgan --” She broke off, shaking her head. “I must have had one too many. That was _very_ rude of me, just asking like that! Please forgive me?”

Blonde and empty-headed -- even if the latter was fake -- was about as far from Carter’s type as was possible to get, but Carter ducked her head, as though she were embarrassed to admit she might be interested in Jorgensen. “No, no, I’m here as a -- as a favor to a friend. Zoe and I -- no.” Jorgensen had moved quicker than Carter had thought. She devised a few scenarios, some of which hinged on Zoe “discovering” them, and decided to play for time.

“So there’s no one… special… in your life right now?” Jorgensen stepped closer, their bodies now inches apart.

“I, uh … no.” Carter kept her gaze averted, doing her best to look embarrassed.

“Such a shame,” Jorgensen purred, a predator sure that she had her target off-guard and helpless. Was this the real reason that Jorgensen put up with all the tedious fundraisers? To add to a string of conquests? And was that for its own sake or was …

Carter was suddenly sure not only that Jorgensen was the blackmailer, but also that Jorgensen was _in_ the blackmail material. She looked around, hoping Jorgensen would interpret it as a continuance of the shy, uncertain act. “I -- you’re a very lovely woman,” she lied. “I’m sorry, I -- I don’t usually --" 

Jorgensen slipped her hand into Carter’s. “Follow me,” she said, and Carter allowed herself to be tugged along. She searched the crowd for Zoe, and -- miracle of miracles -- their eyes met. Carter jerked her head towards Jorgensen, and saw Zoe slipping away to follow them. 

Jorgensen also knew the area well, leading them to the same place that Zoe and Carter had been just minutes before. “That’s better,” Jorgensen said, before she kissed Carter, propelling them both against the wall.

The shock that ran through Carter was completely unfeigned. Hoping it would turn out to be worth it in the end, she kissed Jorgensen back, her hands coming to rest on Jorgensen’s sides. Her mind detached from her body as she thought over the possibilities. Jorgensen wasn’t carrying a large purse -- in fact, she’d left her clutch on the table, now that Carter thought about it. Jorgensen was too savvy to ever let the blackmail material out of her sight, so it had to be a flash drive, on her person…

And she’d just handed Carter the perfect opportunity to discover where the flash drive might be.

 _The straps on her heels are too thin, so not there. Bra, panties, or -- jewelry?_ Carter tried to remember what Jorgensen had been wearing for jewelry. Bra first, anyways. She moved her hands up tentatively to lightly touch the other woman’s breasts. Jorgensen made encouraging noises in her throat, which dashed Carter’s hopes -- surely she’d be more concerned about having the flash drive discovered. 

Except that either Jorgensen did actually have an empty-headed streak, or she had a convenient excuse prepared -- because Carter found the flash drive right away. She made a note of how it was positioned and moved on, acting as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

_“Joss?”_

Carter resisted the urge to smile. Zoe had good timing. Her fingers snagged the flash drive from Jorgensen’s bra. “Z-Zoe,” she stammered. “W-what are--”

Zoe strode forward and took Carter’s hands in hers. “I thought you knew,” she said breathlessly. Carter passed her the flash drive. “I thought you knew how I felt -- I thought --”

“Oh, Zoe,” Carter said. “I’m sorry, I -- no, I didn’t, and I--” she looked over her shoulder at Jorgensen. “I never would have --”

She caught a flash of irritation on Jorgensen’s face before it was smoothed away into a girlish pout. “You stole another one, Zoe,” Jorgensen chided. “How am I ever going to have any fun if I’m one step behind you?”

“I’m sure you’ll learn to live with disappointment,” Zoe said dryly, leaning in to kiss Carter. Zoe was gentle and caring as opposed to Jorgensen’s hard, demanding kisses, and Carter actually found herself leaning into it, returning that gentleness.

When they finally broke apart, Jorgensen was gone, and they were both flushed with excitement. Zoe retrieved the flash drive. “Nice work,” she said, her smile a little uncertain.

“Thanks,” Carter said. “I’m pretty sure if we view that, we’ll find that she’s Coleman’s mistress.” She offered Zoe a smile, trying to get back to “normal” ground. “Don’t suppose I could convince you to let me use that to arrest her for extortion and bribery?” 

“Another time,” Zoe promised, tucking the flash drive into her purse. “Let’s verify that this is what we want and pass it to Coleman. And then…”

“And then?” Carter prompted after a moment.

“Was it real? The kiss, I mean.”

Carter looked at Zoe for a long moment, trying to read the other woman. Finally, she decided to take the chance. “Jorgensen? No. You?” Carter closed the distance, kissing Zoe with more passion than before. “Does that answer your question?”

This time, there was no doubt in Carter’s mind -- Zoe was looking her over with an eye towards how quickly the dress could be gotten rid of. Carter knew her pulse was racing, her skin flushed. “How convenient that I have a room here,” Zoe said. 

“Very convenient,” Carter replied, linking her arm with Zoe’s and heading back to the gathering.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Shaw stood next to Zoe Morgan and Carter, fidgeting and resisting the urge to bolt. She understood _why_ Harold was doing this. She was even (mostly) done with arguing and complaining about it. That didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. 

“Just once, I wish you fellas would call with something that didn’t require firearms,” Carter said, after being told that the three of them were bait.

 _Couldn’t agree less,_ Shaw thought as John asked a stupid question about guns. Carter brought hers out to determine that she was, in fact, carrying a gun, and the night got a lot more interesting. Carter was carrying an older model of Shaw’s favored compact handgun, and Shaw fumbled at her own purse, bringing out her gun and trying, for once, to act _less_ excited than she actually was.

“You have the nano?” Carter handled Shaw’s gun expertly, dropping the cartridge down and then putting it back in. “I’ve been _dying_ for one of these.”

“Oh, you can borrow it anytime,” Shaw replied as she admired Carter’s gun-handling skills. And her body. Mostly her body. Well, it was a combination. Carter was a stunning woman who knew how to use a gun. Shaw had a weakness for that kind of woman.

As she accepted the nano back from Carter, Zoe brought out a slick black taser and pressed the button on the side. “Little gift from Joss,” Zoe explained, and Shaw’s stomach dropped through the floor. Oh. The two of them were … the two of them. Dammit. _Seriously_ unfair. She’d clocked Finch and Reese right away, but…

Shaw put it aside. She’d had practice at that, and it became much easier when Finch handed her the phone with her Angler profile. _Yoga instructor._ Ugh. 

* * *

Their target zeroed in on Zoe and lead her off into the crowd, leaving Shaw and Carter standing next to one another. “I almost feel sorry for the guy,” Carter commented. “He has no idea what he’s getting into with Zoe.” 

Shaw resisted the urge to grind her teeth. Another tally in the Carter-and-Zoe-are-totally-banging column. She caught Carter looking at her and realized that she was making her displeasure obvious. “Thought you’d be glad it wasn’t you,” Carter said.

“I am,” Shaw replied with conviction. “Let’s go finish those drinks.”

Carter nodded and they went back to the table, Shaw downing two shots in quick succession. Carter raised an eyebrow as she sipped at her own drink. “Well, I was _going_ to ask for your help with something, but …”

“What do you need?” Shaw spoke too hastily, she knew it, but there was nothing to do about it now.

“Our boy’s not the only one who’s been using this nightclub as a hunting ground. We’ve had a dozen reports of credit card fraud that can be traced back here.” 

“Stolen cards?”

Carter shook her head. “The cards don’t go missing, they just turn up with the usual fraud charges, and the commonality is here.” 

“Either someone has access to the reader or someone’s stealing people’s cards, running them, then putting them back.”

Carter nodded. “Employees have been checked out. No red flags. What’s your gut say?” 

“Wouldn’t be too hard to pick someone’s pocket, swipe a card, and then put it back without them noticing,” Shaw said. “Crowded, noisy, and everyone’s drunk.”

“That’s what I thought.” Carter put down her drink. “Up for trying to catch a bad guy?”

“Only if I get to break a few bones.”

Carter gave her a _look_ that she more typically saw from Finch or Reese when she made a statement like that. _Right. She’s a cop. Doesn’t like the idea of breaking a perp’s bones._

“Let’s go.” They both stood and moved back out onto the dance floor, splitting off to monitor different sections. Shaw felt more excited than she had since Finch first proposed this excursion. This was _fun_. Sliding through the crowd, taking notice of the little details -- the stumbling guy who hadn’t had as much to drink as he was pretending; the couple whose body language said they were on the verge of a fight.

The slim, dark-haired woman who fished a man’s wallet out of his pocket without his noticing.

Shaw grinned as she made her way slowly towards the thief. As she watched, the dark-haired woman pulled out all of the man’s cards and ran them through a reader strapped to her left thigh. She put the cards back, then slipped the wallet back into its owner’s pocket. Poor guy didn’t appear to notice that it had even been gone. Shaw had to admire her technique. Shame to bring her in, but she _had_ agreed to help Carter.

As Shaw stepped past a group of people dancing, her target looked up and directly into her face. Their eyes met. _Shit._

Shaw raised her hand, a forced smile on her face as she looked past the thief. All of her instincts were telling her to hit the other woman, or tackle her, or do _something_ that would incapacitate her. Her training told her that doing something like that in such a public place, when she’d basically been made, was a disaster waiting to happen.

“You waiting for someone?” the thief asked. She had a light eastern European accent. Shaw pegged her as being from Croatia, maybe Slovenia.

“Thought I saw my friend, but I guess it wasn’t her,” Shaw replied, giving a nervous laugh and wishing it wasn’t so obviously nervous. “Sorry for the confusion.”

“Well, since we are both currently alone… would you like to dance?”

Shaw blinked, surprised. “Sure,” she said. Either the thief had bought Shaw’s act, or she wanted to keep a closer eye on Shaw. Whatever the case was, it would also allow Shaw to keep an eye on her.

“I’m Tara.”

“Sam. Pleasure to meet you.”

Tara smiled, putting her hands up and moving to the beat of the music. Shaw followed suit. She really did enjoy dancing. And she was good at it. _Just don’t forget why you’re here or who you’re dancing with._ At least while they were dancing, Tara wasn’t stealing any more credit card numbers.

“You’re very good,” Tara said. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“Just got into town,” Shaw replied. “You’re a regular, then?” Tara must be good about not being noticed if she continued to be able to hit the same club. And good at remembering who she had and hadn’t hit yet, come to think of it.

“It’s my favorite place in town.” Tara twirled around, and when she finished, she was closer to Shaw than before. “You made a good choice, coming here.”

“Sure did. Allowed me to meet you.” Shaw cringed at how that sounded, but Tara’s smile only grew wider. Shaw still had no idea whether she’d truly been made or … well, she wasn’t used to thinking of herself as the type of woman that others would be attracted to. She was too rough, too abrasive. Not smooth and poised like Zoe.

Tara didn’t appear to take any notice of Shaw’s awkwardness or internal dilemma. She got closer. “Just confirms your good taste.”

 _Going to have to do something soon._ The music sped up, and Shaw closed her eyes, leaning into the beat as an excuse to come up with an _actual_ plan. _All right. Either keep her distracted until Carter finds you, or get close so you can incapacitate her for a little chat._ She opened her eyes to find that Tara had made the choice for her, getting close, hands coming to rest on Shaw’s hips. Shaw smiled, thinking about the look on Carter’s face when she was presented with a practically gift-wrapped thief.

Tara took the smile as an invitation, leaning in to steal a kiss from Shaw’s lips. Shaw barely stopped herself from breaking Tara’s nose, settling for watching her closely. Tara took a step back, looking confused. _What?_ Then Shaw remembered. _Shit._ She caught Tara before the smaller woman fell to the ground, holding one arm over her shoulder. _Gotta find Carter._

Thankfully, Carter was easy enough to spot. Shaw toted Tara over, noting how Carter’s eyes widened when she saw what was coming her way. “Hey! My, uh, new friend had a bit too much to drink. Help me get her outside.”

“What did you _do?_ ” Carter hissed under her breath, looping Tara’s other arm around her shoulder.

“I … _may_ have put on some of my special lipstick for tonight.”

“Special?”

“Knock-out,” Shaw admitted.

“ _Shaw!_ We were supposed to _figure him out_ , not _knock him out_.”

“Well, knocking him out would have given us space for a nice little chat wherein he would tell me all his plans.”

Carter let out an indignant huff. They made it outside the club without any further incident. “I take it you caught her in the act?” Carter asked.

Shaw nodded. “What now?”

_“Hey, what happened down there? You guys okay?”_

Carter and Shaw shared an exasperated glance. “Slow as usual, Lionel,” Shaw replied. “We caught ourselves a thief.”

_“I thought it was a serial killer we were after.”_

“She’s the one who’s been swiping credit cards from this location, Fusco,” Carter said. “You got Zoe?”

_“Yeah, I got her.”_

“Right. Then we’ll take this one in.” Carter reached up and turned off her earpiece. Shaw did the same. “Dump her in lockup and process her in the morning.”

“Do we _have_ to?” Shaw whined before she thought better of it. Carter cocked an eyebrow at her. “I mean… we _were_ kind of having a good time, you and me.” _Way to dig the hole even deeper, Sameen._

“You and me, huh?” Carter repeated, smiling softly. At that moment, a patrol car drove by. “Hold her.” Carter strode forward, flagging the car down and speaking to the officers. She lifted her head up and gestured for Shaw to come forward. The rear door opened, and Shaw deposited Tara in there none-too-gently. She ducked her head away from the officers’ inquisitive gazes, turning her back and scanning the area for any potential threats.

“Don’t worry, they’ve forgotten your face,” Carter said, coming to join her. “How long’s that stuff good for, your knock-out lipstick?”

“About an hour,” Shaw replied. “Got a tissue or a handkerchief in there?”

Carter pulled out a pack of tissues and handed it over to Shaw, who took it with a grateful nod. She spat on the tissue, using the moisture to wipe away the remainder of the lipstick.

“I should be mad at you for that, but it did come in handy in the end.” Carter peered at her. “You get it all?”  
  
Shaw wiped her lips with a second tissue and passed the pack back to Carter. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Carter replied, and before Shaw could react, leaned in and stole a kiss. Shaw froze, her heart pounding in her ears.

“Did I read you wrong?” Carter asked, when Shaw remained frozen for a few more moments.

“N-no, I just thought -- you and Zoe --” Shaw hated herself for stammering it out like that.

Carter laughed. “Oh! Don’t worry about that. She’ll join us later.”

“Well.” Shaw grinned. “All right then. Shall we dance?”

“After you,” Carter said, and they made their way back inside.


End file.
